


The Rest I'd Give to be to You Translated

by Chicklet_Girl



Category: Smallville
Genre: Future Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-05-23
Updated: 2005-05-23
Packaged: 2017-10-08 13:57:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/76333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chicklet_Girl/pseuds/Chicklet_Girl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>There is background plottishness inspired by a theory of Hope's; further notes at the end. Title is from <i>A Midsummer Night's Dream</i>, by William Shakespeare.</p>
    </blockquote>





	The Rest I'd Give to be to You Translated

**Author's Note:**

> There is background plottishness inspired by a theory of Hope's; further notes at the end. Title is from _A Midsummer Night's Dream_, by William Shakespeare.

Lex dismisses his executives with an excuse so flimsy an infant would raise an eyebrow. They, to their credit, leave with no hint of surprise or consternation showing on their faces. Lex apologizes again for the shortened meeting and tells them he has faith in their projections, he'll have Kendall reschedule the meeting for tomorrow, blather blather blather, until he closes the door behind them and turns to look at the terrace.

Superman comes to a stop, then floats over the railing to the door and enters. He always lands so smoothly, and Lex is irrationally jealous. The crystals had given him plenty of power, and some useful abilities, but flight hadn't been one of them. Shooting a laser beam out of his palm just wasn't as cool as flying.

Then again, Lex doesn't have to wear a primary-colored costume sewn by his mother. Perhaps it evens out.

Once on the ground, Superman continues to pace, his hands balled in fists at his sides and his face cast down at the floor as he winds his way in front of the credenza, around the sofa, and back to the terrace door. Lex worries about what it takes to make Superman nervous -- because he hasn't shaken out his hair, or changed his posture, or relaxed his face, or any of the little things that distinguish Superman from Clark. This is official business.

"Care for a drink? Or a seat?"

"No. I mean, thanks, but ... this is weird."

"You arriving at my office needing to talk about Kryptonian-mutant relations? That's not weird."

"This time, it is. Trust me."

"All right." Lex parks himself next to the terrace door, waiting for Superman to reach him as part of his appointed rounds. When he does, Superman stops short and folds his arms in front of him, still looking at the floor, or out the window, anywhere but at Lex. Lex sighs a little and gets to the point. "Out with it, Clark."

"We've been over this. When I'm in uniform, call me Superman." Lex closes his eyes and takes a calming breath. Between Clark, Superman, Kal-El and Numan, it's a wonder the being in front of him doesn't have even more identity issues than the current number.

"Of course. But no matter what name I use, there still is something you need to discuss with me, or you wouldn't be here. I assume it has something to do with our status as Numan and Segeth?"

"Yeah."

Lex sincerely wants to hit Superman upside the head, and would do so, except not even his crystal-enhanced resilience would keep him from breaking his hand. "So, could you _tell_ me what that something is?"

Superman winces. "It's, well.... The AI has discovered something about the Kawatche legend and the cave pictographs. A mistranslation." He stops and looks at Lex beseechingly, as though Lex can read his mind. Unfortunately, that is not one of the powers Lex gained that day in the caves.

"And?" Being so merciless would be fun if whatever this was didn't involve himself.

"Okay, I guess I just have to say it. The story of Numan and Segeth, it turns out the word for them meant something different when the first Kryptonian visited Earth, and then it was translated into the wrong English word when the settlers came through Kansas and made contact with the Kawatches. I had the AI do an in-depth survey of the language and its translation to English, so she could compare it to the translations of Kryptonian into English --"

"You refer to the AI as 'she'?"

"It's a female voice, Lex. What else do you want me to do?"

"How about not anthropomorphizing it?"

A short sigh, and then he continues. "Anyway, _she_ was working on the additional pictographs we found in the section of the cave that opened when the crystals were brought together, the ones that continue from the pictographs in the outer cave. With all of that extra data, she figured out that one of the words in the Numan-Segeth story had changed meaning among the Kawatche in the centuries between the Kryptonian's first visit and the arrival of the settlers. Something about a vocal sound getting the wrong diacritical mark and being connected with an inaccurate English word." Superman takes several long breaths. Still no eye contact, which is starting to make Lex not just concerned, but actually kind of pissed off.

"Normally, you know, I enjoy discussing linguistics and the strange history that brought us here, but _get to the point_."

Superman closes his eyes and speaks all in one breath. "It seems that Numan and Segeth aren't brothers, they're lovers. Or are supposed to be. The pictograph shows them entwined not because they're fighting, but because they're... you know."

"So Segeth isn't supposed to keep Numan in line? Fight him when he's misguided or dangerous?"

"No, that's still supposed to happen. It's more like... They're not supposed to have been raised together, like brothers. Connected in childhood, maybe, but not in the same family. There's supposed to be some separation, right? Emotionally. Or in their life experiences."

"Mm-hmm." This was starting to make sense, in a cockeyed way.

"But they need to be really connected in order to trust each other. I mean, Numan has to believe Segeth has the best interests of the world in mind if Segeth goes against him. They have to be able to fight, but with a feeling that they have a connection with each other that nobody else has."

"I understand." Lex crosses to the bar and pours himself a Scotch. With his back turned to Superman and the decanter in his hand, his mind still assimilating this new knowledge, Lex realizes what it really means. Why Superman is so nervous.

He turns to Clark, who smiles lopsidedly and says, "You always figure out things so fast." Lex turns back to the bar and puts the stopper in the decanter, wondering how to play this. When he turns around again, Clark is leaning against the terrace door, looking at Lex with his chin held up. And it _is_ Clark, despite the spit-curl and uniform. Lex decides to aim for casual, walking over while he sips the Scotch. He stands a few feet from Clark, watching as Clark blinks a few times and crosses his arms, curling into himself a bit.

"Did the AI say if there would be consequences if we don't... consummate this relationship?"

"The information about the crystals is pretty sketchy on the Kryptonian end. They were placed on Earth so long before Jor-El sent me here, the matrix in the Fortress crystal doesn't have very much information about the crystals that combined and gave you your powers. And the stuff from Countess Thoreaux's estate doesn't mention Numan and Segeth, so it's tough to say what would happen if we kept things the way they are now. I do know the crystals worked only when you entered the cave, no one else. Only you got their power."

"What do you think we should do, Clark?"

"I told you: it's Superman right now."

"Right now, you look like Clark," Lex says softly. "What do you think we should do?"

Clark looks him squarely in the eye. "I worry about what would happen if we don't do this, maybe your powers would go away. And I need you to have those powers. But I worry about what would happen to us if we go ahead."

"What, terminal awkwardness? We already went through that when a giant beam of light engulfed me and I woke up able to shoot a laser from my hand."

"This is different. It would make _us_ different." Clark moves his hand back and forth between them.

Lex steps closer to Clark until they're only a foot apart. "That's probably the point of the exercise. As it is, we see each other rarely; we hardly talk about anything not related to the AI or your background. What are we putting at risk?"

"Lex, you know why it needs to be that way. I can't have you feeling guilty about fighting a friend if you need to go after me. And you've taken on so much because of this stupid thing with the crystals. You have your company and everything else to do. You're -- _we're_ being forced into something we wouldn't have done otherwise, and all because of something from _my_ planet."

"So this is about not wanting to 'put me out'? I take these responsibilities very seriously, Clark, and if sleeping with you is part of the deal, I'm up for it."

"Pun intended?" Clark being bitter is rare and very sad.

"No, but let's pretend it was. When and where?"

"What, you mean -- it's -- I don't --"

"I meant 'where' as in location, Clark. Although you bring up a good question."

Clark blurts, "Friday. I mean, let's talk about it Friday. If that's okay with you."

Lex thinks through his schedule; Friday evening is a charity event he could skip, especially since he's already donated several hundred thousand dollars to the foundation in question. "Fine. How about the mansion in Smallville? Or maybe it's supposed to happen in the caves?"

"God, I don't know. Seems a little excessive." Clark apparently has decided Lex's casual straightforwardness is the best way to handle a very abnormal situation. "The mansion should be fine. You have it open now?"

"It's only Wednesday; the staff will have everything ready by Friday afternoon."

"Everything, meaning what?"

"The furniture uncovered, the woodwork dusted. You have a fairly dirty mind, Clark." Teasing him is a long-missed pleasure.

"Knock it off, Lex," Clark says as he turns toward the door and opens it. Suddenly, he turns back to face Lex again. "How do you just *accept* all of this stuff?"

"I think of it as a talent I received as a byproduct of the meteor shower," he says, watching Clark smile. "I'll see you on Friday. Eight o'clock?"

"Sure. See you then." Clark jumps up from the balcony and disappears. Lex picks up the phone to his assistant, having her send his regrets to Sandy at the heart disease foundation and get the staff working on the Smallville house. He hangs up and stares out the window.

Clark had sounded so bewildered. _How do you just *accept* all this stuff?_ Lex didn't want to tell him it was because of Jonathan and Martha, their matter-of-fact attitude and patience with his newly conferred powers. He remembers Jonathan teaching him how to control the beam that came shooting out of his palm, how he knew to compare it to the deliberate motions of fencing -- something Lex would understand. The tests he conceived to gauge the limits of Lex's strength and speed, and the enhanced resilience of his skin and muscles. He can picture Martha in her kitchen, smell the coffee brewing as she told him all they knew about Krypton, assuring him he would be all right.

In those days, it had been Clark who behaved oddly, friendly to a point and then weirdly distant. Weeks went by before Lex could corner him long enough to get the truth: Clark thought they shouldn't be friends anymore, or not as close as before. He didn't want Lex to feel too close to him, in case they needed to fight someday. "Don't you get it, Lex?" he'd asked, the sunset casting an orange light on his face. "You might need to hit me with that laser beam, and I don't want you hesitating because you feel guilty." Lex had looked out over the barnyard briefly, catching sight of the new calf trailing its mother before looking Clark square in the face. "Clark, I would always feel guilty." He'd turned and walked down to his car, and it was almost a week before Clark called and they'd figured out terms. Clark was off to Met U. and Lex stayed in Smallville most of the time -- the irony was lost on no one. They talked every few weeks, saw each other rarely. Lex had been surprised the day he realized he had more contact with, and was closer to, Jonathan and Martha than he was with their son.

Several years later, nothing much has changed. Martha calls Lex every week and occasionally sends cookies with admonitory notes that Lex isn't to share them, because she saw him on CNN and he looks entirely too thin. Jonathan sends e-mails during solar flares: "Be careful. Things might go a little haywire. Take some time off if you have to." Clark sends only sympathetic glances at press conferences and regular birthday cards.

Kendall knocks on the door and Lex beckons her in. She asks if there's anything else he needs, and Lex is surprised to realize he's lost the rest of the afternoon to memories. He dismisses her for the night and heads home, resolving that whatever happens Friday, things between he and Clark will have to change.

***************************************

Lex is about to sink the nine ball in the side pocket when he hears Clark open the doors behind him. Flustered, he shoves the cue too hard and the balls smash together with a resounding crack, caroming across the felt. When Lex stands and turns around, Clark takes a deep breath and walks in. "It's been a long time since I was here."

"Do you want to play a game?"

"I don't think so. Should we...."

"We have some time, Clark. Would you like a drink?" Lex puts away his cue and walks toward the bar.

"It doesn't work on me."

"Humor me?" If Lex believed in auras, he would say Clark was radiating whichever color was associated with nervousness. Come to think of it, Lex can't figure out why he doesn't believe in auras, when he's about to have sex with an alien.

"Sure." Clark stands next to Lex as he pours a Scotch for himself and a vodka for Clark. They sip their drinks and look around the room. The crackles from the fire seem to get louder and louder.

"Did you come straight from Metropolis, or did you stop to see your parents?"

"Oh, I had dinner with them. Fried chicken." Clark nods, apparently aiming for their casual attitude from Wednesday.

"Do they know why you're in town?"

"Yeah, because what this whole situation needs is more awkwardness." He sighs. "Look, can we... get started? I'm just...." Clark turns his glass between his hands. "Please?"

"Of course." Lex puts his glass down on the bar, and Clark follows suit, turning toward Lex and wiping his hands on his jeans. He leans forward quickly and kisses Lex, arms wrapping around him until just before the point Lex can't breathe, pressing his mouth to Lex's roughly. Lex tries to soften things, puts his hands on Clark's face, but nothing works until he actively squirms, and Clark lets him go.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

"I know. Here, take your drink. Let's sit over here on the couch and watch something."

"On what? There's no TV in -- oh."

"I had it installed after you left for college."

"For business?"

"No, because I was a twenty-five-year-old billionaire who wanted a television in his office."

"The pool table wasn't enough?" Clark sits at one end of the couch while Lex hunts for the remote.

"Sometimes a man needs his History Channel."

"Yes, because their obsession with Hitler isn't at all unsettling."

Lex sits an arm's length from Clark and drops the remote in his lap. "Here, find something to entertain us." Clark hits the channel-up button until Marilyn Monroe is walking across a train platform and a draggy Jack Lemmon is describing her walk as Jell-O on springs. It's not Lex's cup of tea, but comedy is what they need, and one built on subtly-coded sexuality jokes seems strangely appropriate.

They settle in while the girl band plays in the train car and Jack-as-Daphne takes the blame for the flask belonging to Sugar. Lex stretches his arm along the back of the couch and rests it on the back of Clark's neck, and Clark takes in a sharp breath. "Just keep watching the movie, hmmm?" They sit like that as an impromptu party breaks out in Daphne's berth, and Clark laughs and leans back a bit when one girl asks, "Is this a private clambake, or can anyone join in?" Lex moves his fingers through the curls at Clark's nape (a style change he approves wholeheartedly) and Clark lets out a soft "Mmmmm."

Lex shifts closer to Clark, keeping his fingers in motion as he leans over and breathes on Clark's neck, barely brushing his lips over his throat and jaw. He murmurs, "Clark, is this a private clambake, or can anyone join in?" Clark turns, smiling, and touches his lips to Lex's, the two of them sitting there waiting for the other to lean forward and make this thing happen.

It's Clark who takes charge, dropping the remote on the floor and setting his glass on the coffee table. He deepens the kiss, stroking Lex's tongue with his own and cupping Lex's head, running his thumb in a small circle that sends a shiver everywhere. Lex moves to straddle Clark's lap and dives back into it, the kiss turning messy and wet. He holds Clark's head in his hands, grabbing his hair and taking his mouth. Clark moans deep in this throat and grabs Lex's ass, grinding them together until he can feel they're both hard. Lex pulls away and says, "Upstairs. We need room."

Clark's eyes unglaze as he focuses on what Lex said. "Uh-huh, okay." Lex stands up and waits for Clark to carry him, or superspeed them to the bedroom, but Clark still sits on the couch, his hair thoroughly mussed and the outline of his hard cock evident under his jeans.

"Are you doing that to drive me crazy?"

"What? No. It's just you look... really hot." He stands and runs his thumb over Lex's mouth. "Your lips are all red, but the scar's white and -- fuck. Come on." Clark takes Lex's hand and leads them to the staircase. "Where's your room, anyway?"

"Take a left at the top." Lex shouldn't be so fixated on Clark's hand in his own. And Clark saying _Fuck_, which is hotter than Lex ever thought it could be. He needs to make Clark say _Fuck_ a lot more. It's at the top of his agenda for the next several hours. They get to the top of the stairs, and Lex stands behind Clark, grabbing his hips and steering him down the hall. "Third door on the left." He licks the back of Clark's neck and Clark stumbles, jostling the both of them until they land against the door, kissing hard and heavy again. "Here we are," Lex says, turning the knob.

They move inside the room. Clark shuts the door, and still they're kissing, Clark is even breathing hard, and Lex decides he can't stop touching him, ever. It'll make work a little challenging, but if he pays his executives enough they'll put up with him sitting on Clark's lap during board meetings. Clark's lips glisten in the firelight coming from across the room as he steps back from Lex and strips off his shirt, shadows and light harmonizing like nothing Lex has ever seen. "Hurry," Clark says, like he can't wait, and he's _here_ and pulling Lex's sweater over his head so he can kiss and lick from Lex's jaw down to his waist unimpeded. He has Clark's hair in his hands again and hangs on for dear life because Clark is mouthing his cock through his pants, humid heat and the pressure of teeth through cloth and all he can say is "More" and "Fuck" and "Don't stop."

Lex finds himself spread out on the bed with no memory of getting there, but it doesn't matter because he's naked, and so is Clark, and they're naked _together_, Clark's tongue circling his nipple and his hand cupping Lex's balls. Lex braces his foot on the bed for more leverage and says, "Please," only it ends on a hiss because Clark knows exactly what Lex needs and is licking his cock, one long wide swath from root to tip and a wicked, wicked spiral on the head. Lex invokes deities and maybe an odd demon or two in his short tenure in Clark's mouth, and he can't even work up the grace to be embarrassed at how not-long he lasts. Not with that mouth, and Clark's hands roaming all over. Clark rubs a spit-slick finger over Lex's hole, pushing Lex over the edge. More deities, curse words, Clark's name, it's all flying out of him, just like his come.

Clark crawls over him, nuzzling into his neck and thrusting against Lex's hip. Lex wraps his leg over Clark's hip and grabs his ass, rubbing Clark's cock in the crease between hip and thigh. Their sweaty skin makes smacking noises and their hot breaths blend together as Lex urges Clark to go faster, harder, closer. On a sharp breath in, Clark comes, warm and sticky on Lex's stomach.

They collect themselves enough to clean up, but just barely. Lex is so tired he doesn't even really get up, he just rolls until he's at the head of the bed and can pull the sheet over himself. He feels Clark climb in beside him, but falls down, down into sleep before he can say anything.

When Lex wakes up, it's still dark, only the embers of the fire bright orange under a layer of black. Clark is lying on his back, looking at the ceiling, and Lex moves until he's doing the same.

"Everything all right?"

"Huh?" Clark stirs out of his reverie. "Yeah, I'm fine. That was...."

"Yes, it was."

Clark's voice is warm and matter-of-fact. "You wanted that. For a long time." Lex is utterly exposed, a mouse caught in the middle of the floor when the kitchen light's turned on.

"Clark -- I. How could you tell?"

"It was... when you came." Lex can hear the smile in Clark's voice. "I could, I don't know, feel how you were feeling."

"Telepathy?" As though Lex doesn't have enough to worry about without Clark being able to read his mind.

"Not really. Just that emotion. And only right then. I don't know what you're thinking right now or anything."

Lex goes for the truth. "I'm thinking I'm glad it's dark."

He feels Clark shift closer. "Why would you be glad it's dark? Are you embarrassed? I should be embarrassed -- I didn't even know *I* wanted this until we were on the couch downstairs."

"And now?"

"Stop speaking in hieroglyphics. Do you mean, how do I feel now?"

"Yes."

"Like I need to sleep. And to see your face when you come." Clark shifts even closer and wraps his arm over Lex, resting it on his hip. "To which daylight will be much more conducive."

"I see." It's quiet for a few minutes, and the ceiling is strangely captivating.

"Stop thinking."

"How can you tell I'm thinking?"

"Your brain makes this little whirring noise. Shut it off."

"Your parents?"

"Are extremely unflappable and adore you." He can feel Clark kissing his neck and then resting his head on Lex's shoulder, mumbling, "Go to sleep."

So Lex does.

**Author's Note:**

> A couple of seasons ago, Hope theorized that Dr. Snideface, the cryptologist, got the powers Lex was supposed to, and that Lex would have been sufficiently mutated from the meteor shower to withstand having those powers. I've kyped that theory and applied it here, as well as altering the purpose of the stones of power from Season 4.


End file.
